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Maripol, Clare Stephenson and Zoe Williams – Spring / Summer 2015

After a succession of impressively
immersive shows that have felt at times like being in assorted
night-club chill-out rooms, the DCA comes blinking into the (neon)
light for this triple-headed glamour chase spear-headed by the French
Polaroid auteur, designer, stylist to art's original stars and
sometime chanteuse, Maripol. In a collection that looks part
boutique, part 1980s in-crowd affair which has only just been in full
swing before everyone rushed off to the latest joint, Maripol's
verite images are the stuff of a thousand private views, and her work
really shouldn't be witnessed unless set to a sound-track of
uber-cool loft-friendly avant-disco.

As it is, Maripol's own musical
contribution to the show, a song recorded with Leonard Lasry called
'Love Each Other', can only be heard on headphones pitched next to a
glass case containing 'EACH x OTHER' (2015), a calendar box etched
with a series of epigrams that mark the seasons of desire. While
commercial enough to be able to grace Eurovision if required, the
song is nothing compared to the case it nestles next to containing
assorted vinyl discs by Madonna, the street-smart icon who Maripol
styled with assorted crucifixes, chains and an abundance of
multi-coloured wrist bands of the ilk that would go on to keep
Accessorize in business ever after.

By this time we've already sashayed
past a clothes rail of Maripol's other creations, including shirts
patterned with collaged reproductions of her Polaroid portraits, a
leather jacket hung from the ceiling and a pair of equally Polaroided
up high heels, caged, as with other accoutrements, in cake shop style
domed display cases.

Sartorially speaking, then, Maripol was
to New York's loft-dwelling Downtown No Wave scene what Vivienne
Westwood was to London's punky, spunky King's Road, providing the
Look to a mould-breaking DIY culture even as she led it somewhere
more attention-seekingly aspirational. This is clear from the array
of coffee table books showcasing her back pages laid out as
self-mythologising reference points. And yes, that retro-future
op-art image of Blondie on the cover of Debbie Harry and co's third
album was set up by her.

It is the pictures on the wall,
however, that speak volumes about how that culture panned out. While
half the fun is spotting the famous faces – oh, look, there's
Debbie, Madge and Grace, who together are actually three very
different graces of female pop cool; and there's Keith, Jean Michel
and Andy, inevitable, ubiquitous Andy. And of course, in among the
superstars there are self-portraits too, and in a way Maripol's
entire back catalogue is one big jumbled-up remodelling of herself
and others

Yet for all the celebrity teeth and
smiles on display, it's the less familiar visages in the simple
slide-show in the gallery's back corner room that prove even more
intriguingly enticing. Here in the shadows and out of the spotlight
are all those all-dressed-up one-night-stands, striking a
blink-and-you'll-miss-it pose during fleetingly blurry moments in
crowded rooms where they're immortalised in after-hours snapshots
that ooze fresh stains of colour as disposable as Xerox.

In what now looks like an archaic
pre-selfie 1980s age, this was the sign of the times, a zeitgeisty
trash aesthetic that ran parallel with and defined early editions of
ID magazine, originally a non-glossy zine which suggested you too
could join the fashion parade. Such a deceptively throwaway approach
is confirmed before you even step into Maripol's world, where outside
the gallery the sparkly letters headlining the show change hue as you
walk past en route to the next big thing.

In this context, the latter comes in
the form of Stephenson and Williams' contributions to the show.
Because rather than being added to the bill as hangers on,
Stephenson's permanently drying out bikinis and giant cocktails set
alongside but separate from Williams' synched-up video pieces awash
with slo-mo dancers, perfume bottles and scarlet-painted nails are as
crucial as they are complimentary. While it may appear as if the
young set have been ushered in to do their own growing up in public,
both artists are far from ingénues at their coming out ball.
Stephenson and Williams are already the next new wave, bringing
substance as well as style to a place where the art of parties is
brought so vividly to life.

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About Me

Coffee-Table Notes is the online archive of Neil Cooper. Neil is an arts writer and critic based in Edinburgh, Scotland. Neil currently writes for The Herald, Product, Scottish Art News, Bella Caledonia & The List. He has contributed chapters to The Suspect Culture Book (Oberon), Dear Green Sounds: Glasgow's Music Through Time and Buildings (Waverley) & Scotland 2021 (Eklesia), & co-edited a special Arts and Human Rights edition of the Journal of Arts & Communities (Intellect). Neil has written for A-N, The Quietus, Map. Line, The Wire, Plan B, The Arts Journal, The Times, The Independent, Independent on Sunday, The Scotsman, Sunday Herald, Scotland on Sunday, Sunday Times (Scotland), Scottish Daily Mail, Edinburgh Evening News, Is This Music? & Time Out Edinburgh Guide. He has written essays for Suspect Culture theatre company, Alt. Gallery, Newcastle, Glasgow International Festival of Visual Art, Collective Gallery, Edinburgh, Berwick upon Tweed Film and Media Arts Festival & Ortonandon. Neil has appeared on radio and TV, has provided programme essays for John Good and Co, & has lectured in arts journalism at Napier University, Edinburgh.